Brothers in Arms
by xxAristotlexxx
Summary: A group of seemingly un-interesting travelers make for Haven in the middle of the night. What could possibly happen when a pair of legends encounter one that has yet to form? A tale recalling the events of what happened when the Warden and the Champion encountered the Inquisitor.
1. Chapter 1 - Haven

**Brothers in arms**

**Chapter 1 – Haven**

__'And there is joy even in self-sacrifice; if you put others before yourself, then their well-being is yours, and their happiness is your happiness.'__

__- Wynne, Dragon Age Origins__

Howling winds and freezing temperatures greeted those foolish enough to be on guard duty during the nights. That was the motto of the of the man-at-arms in Haven and it served them well even if it didn't get them off of guard duty; Maker preserve us.

With all the recent events, guard duty was considered an important duty in Haven since you were the one responsible for warning everyone else of any impending attacks from enemy forces, demonic or otherwise. That normally led to the feeling of a sense of duty and to you foolishly volunteering and well... here he was. Maker forgive him but the commander could really go suck on Andraste's tits.

Pulling the furs tightly around his body, Joseph cast a tired eye over what he could barely make out as the road. _'Not that any travellers would be foolish enough to travel in this storm' _he thought bitterly, double checking his scabbard and letting out a small, relieved sigh as he saw the rusted iron longsword still firmly lodged within. It may have been a piece of shit when compared to the fancy weapons that those Chantry folk were wielding but it was his piece of shit. That was the point of having the normal folk man the walls during the night whilst the men in shiny armour with massive swords manned them during the day – 'parently we look more impressive when they can see us and when they do see us they don't want to see a man-at-arms huddled for dear life in furs.

"_Keep moving... the tomb lays a top this peak..." _

Those words seemed to be carried to him on the wind, hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water and ridding him of any tiredness that had begun to take hold. Sound all but left him for a moment as Joseph strained his ears and eyes to catch any sign of the source of the voice. After a few minutes of scanning he had all but given up but then there they were.

Beneath him. Right at the gate.

Clearing his throat hastily he quickly gave off the typical watchman's question, "Who goes there!"

The three didn't move and didn't even make a sound with the only sign of life from their figures being the blooms of cold air escaping from beneath their hoods. Joseph was already assembling rushed thoughts of raising the alarm when their response was carried up to him on the wind, "Hail there! We are weary travellers who seek respite from the cold weather of this mountain!"

Mulling over the possibilities of demons disguised as people, templars trying to infiltrate their ranks or blood mages sending their thralls would have crossed a veteran's mind. Joseph was not such a man and their answer was fine by his standards, "Aye! Give me a moment and I'll unlock the door for you!"

Turning quickly, the watchman descended the wooden stairs of the palisade quickly heading for the makeshift door that had been cut out of their barricades. Fumbling for the keys a moment, he managed to slot the correct key into the cold iron lock of the door. After a moment of struggling with the nearly frozen mechanisms of the door, Joseph managed to earn the satisfying _click _as the door was unlocked.

Pulling open the door the watchman ushered the travellers within the barricade before quickly locking the door behind them. If he wasn't so tired he could have sworn he heard an elvish voice mutter, _'A much friendlier greeting than my first time visiting.' _

"Greetings travellers and welcome to Haven. Not that we aren't happy to have you but what in the name of the Maker's bride brought you out here in the dead of night?"

Maybe it was rude and lacking of etiquette but none of the three seemed to mind as they stopped just next to a sheltered fire place next to the door, nor did they seem to mind as the tallest of the three immediately gave a reply, "We heard about trouble in Haven and wanted to check it out, see if our help was needed..." the man trailed off and Joseph immediately took note of some-things which could have been lethal to overlook.

Each and every one of them were armed. The tallest of the three had an elegant staff, one end with a blade sticking out the bottom whilst the other seemed to hold a glowing red gem. This staff was slung across his back tied to a leather sash whilst the rest of his body was shrouded in shadow but with the occasional gust of mountain wind revealing the traveller's apparel... was that metal? And why was it spiked?

The next had something wrapped in wool slung across his back, clearly to fight against the nature of this area. If it were not for the quiver sheltering his arrows, this stranger's weapon of choice would have been left to the imagination.

_'Maybe I shouldn't have let them in after all...' _

"And uh... What were you going to do if there was trouble?" Joseph hesitantly asked, subconsciously lowering a hand to the hilt of his rusted longsword and not containing a look of fear from flashing across his flash as he watched the third traveller mirror his action.

None of this was lost on their assumed leader however as the man let out a soft chuckle, raising his hands in a placating manor, "We were going to offer our help and still are willing to if you need it...?" He trailed off yet again.

Now, being a watchman was an under-rated and sometimes over-rated job in the eyes of the general populace of the town. As one of the townsfolk, you just think they are there to ensure nobody runs amok and sometimes intrude on peoples' day-to-day affairs. As a victim of crime, you see a watchman as your exaggerated 'knight in shining armour' who'll help you with your issue. Whilst neither of these, in the mind of a watchman, is actually true, Joseph was now experiencing one of the more extreme issues that you face in his line of (in)voluntary work. _'Abandoning your post.'_

"I uh... I... Well I..."

_'Maker have mercy how can such a simple choice be so difficult? I'm eighteen! I'm old enough to make these decisions without Ma's and Pa's help.' _

In one of the moments of strange kindness that would soon be seen as a lie in the coming months, the second tallest of the travellers spoke up in a distinctly elvish voice, "If you wish, we can head straight to the command building in Haven and report in...?"

"... Joseph."

"Does that sound good to you, Joseph?" He queried with an unseen raised brow.

"Yes. Okay the building you should be heading to is the uh... Chantry. Just keep heading along the main path up the village an-"

"Joseph!" Came a heavily accent-laced voice from the village. All four of them turned to see a man wrapped in heavier, more expensive looking furs striding towards them with pompousness practically dripping from him. If it weren't for the sudden lull in the wind the watchman might have missed the combined sigh of the two known male travellers, the taller adding in a mutter of _"Orleasian..."_

When the man was within respectable speaking distance Joseph gave him a lazy salute, "Sergeant Jéan."

Jéan regarded Joseph for a moment before returning his greeting with a nod, "Joseph, who are these three?"

"Travellers, sir, just arrived." Pausing for a moment before adding, "Offering assistance."

Without missing a beat, all three of the travellers bowed their heads even though one of them seemed rather reluctant. Jéan regarded each and every one of them with the same look he gave Joseph every time he saw him or, to be more accurate, every Feralden he saw. Contempt. All three of the travellers took it in their stride with the tallest seeming the most relaxed even giving a small, albeit sarcastic, wave.

"I know that you fool but why have you not taken them to the Chantry?"

_'Now that was a little extreme you smug Orleasian bastard.' _That line of thought was already making its way to his tongue and might have taken him all the way to the gallows were it not for the hasty words of the smallest traveller, "He was just about to take us there, serah. You just happened to get here first."

_'Female. Elvish.' _

Jéan looked momentarily taken aback at the mere idea of one of his Feralden men being competent enough to know standard procedure but only gave a swift nod in response, pausing before beckoning to the three, "I'll take them from here, guardsman."

Nodding in response, Joseph simply watched for a few moments as Jéan beckoned to the travellers before leading them into the storm in the direction of the lights being given off from many braziers set around the town. Exhaling heavily, the watchman gave himself a reassuring nod that he had done the right thing before climbing back up onto the palisade.

Needless to say, for weeks to come Joseph's simple decision to allow those weary travellers inside the palisade would help himself and others in ways he never thought possible.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Freezing. Uncomfortable. Uneventful.

Well, at least it was a step up from the last time.

Falon Mahariel trudged behind his fellow _travellers _as they followed Sergeant Jéan down the main street of Haven in the direction of the Chantry. The man gave off an aura that Falon would normally associate with shemlen as a whole since the man practically stunk of bureaucratic shit more commonly known as being an _Orleasian_. After travelling with shemlen like Alistair, Wynne and Morrigan he came to understand that not all shems were that bad. Indeed, Wynne became the mother he never had and Falon was proud to admit he saw the wizened old bat as a parental figure. Alistair... The bastard, oh pardon him, the _royal _bastard. No words could describe the relationship that they held and it wasn't until after the end of the fifth blight, when Alistair finally came to terms with his circumstance did he let Falon back in.

A bang of guilt shot through the Dalish Grey Warden as he followed his companions up the Chantry steps. When word reached him of Morrigan's rumoured location he had left Vigil's keep without even a letter sent to Alistair informing him of where he had gone and it wasn't until after he had reconvened with his love did he realise that the King of Feralden would probably be having a fit over the disappearance of his friend. Hopefully Fin had explained the situation to him adequately enough.

As the group was led through halls crafted from worn looking rocks, Falon dragged himself from his musings to do his typical activities when entering a new place. _'Two guards, one on each side of the door. Adequately made equipment. Tired, as are the rest... One major threat identified.' _The final thought rang like the sound of a dragon's roar through his mind as he spotted _her. _

A woman was standing on the other side of a wide table made from a cheap wood which sent Falon and his fellow elf cringing whilst their one human companion observed them briefly as Jéan cleared his throat, "Commander Pentaghast."

Commander Pentaghast turned a pair of perceptive eyes up, pushing herself away from the table and the crudely drawn map of Thedas covering it. Her hair was a short black, _'More typical of shemlen males.' _Falon noted, with a scar stretched across the left side of her face.

When she spoke, it was with a thick Orleasi- No... There was a difference in shemlen accents and it was there... Antivan? No; Nevarran, "What is it?"

Gesturing with his fur lined arms at the three, Jéan continued, "These three arrived minutes ago offering their assistance,"

Now, spending as much time with shemlen as a normal Dalish would consider unhealthy Falon enjoyed the thought that he had become rather adept at picking out facial expressions or hints in body language which could reveal one's true purpose but this woman was remaining almost as still as a statue as she looked all three of them up and down, still covered in cloaks. Only a small smile began to form when her eyes came to rest on the Warden and the human, "Sergeant, go get Lavellan."

"Aye Commander." Jéan quickly saluted and exited through one of the side doors.

Not a moment after the door was shut behind him did the commander give all of them a hard, steeled look, "She looks mad. Maybe she didn't get much sleep? Oh I hate it when you don't get enough sleep and you wake up and people expect you to do stuff. Maybe we should help her get some sleep?"

In unison, every single occupant of the room turned to stare at the smallest of the travellers who was in the process of freeing her tangle of dark-brown hair from the confines of the hood. Dalish markings and tattoos were scattered across her face. Innocent features that still retained a degree of maturity returned all of their unbelieving expressions with a look of youthful ignorance.

"Now wasn't the time to mention that Merrill."

At the mention of one of the companions of the _Champion, _Pentaghast's eyebrows actually moved an inch towards her forehead. That was the scene that greeted Jéan and _Lavellan _and they came out of a different door behind Pentaghast. Needless to say, when they both came around to stand next to the travellers and saw their commander's expression neither could restrain a chuckle. Lavellan appeared to be Dalish, with the exact same tattoos that Falon had on his covered face the only difference being they didn't appear as... complete. Black hair, almost identical to the charcoal black of Pentaghast, was tied back into a halla-tail whilst a pair of eyes only a fellow hunter could possess scanned all three of them up and down before fixing his gaze on Merrill or, more specifically, her tattoos.

"Andaran Atish'an lethallan." Lavellan offered a small smile to the three even as Pentaghast cleared her throat, garnering all of their attention.

"Now... Lavellan. I called you here to ask for your... shall we say _cunning _nature?"

_'Cunning nature... Oh this will be interesting. A Lavellan Huntsman's cunning versus that of a Sabrae's.' _

"These travellers have arrived and I want you to do what you would do in this situation if you were a commander,"

"Training me to be your replacement, shemlen?"

Jéan, Falon and Merrill watched abrehensively as the two seemed to glare daggers at one another and didn't appear to be aiming to stop anytime soon.

"I'll start then. Hi, I'm Garrett Hawke better known as the _Champion of Kirkwall, Apostate and number one most ruggedly handsome man_. Now you."

_'All the subtly of Oghren walking through the Brecilien Forest... Drunk.' _

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Garrett Hawke had been called many things his life. Namely... Brother, Apostate, trouble-maker, broker of peace, that guy who flings fireballs at people, but he was never ever known as a patient man. Patience just wasn't in his vocabulary if it wasn't associated with spell casting. Sure, he could stand still for a few moments in the heat of battle and have the patience to suddenly make a fist of rocks appear out of practically no where and slam a templar into a wall effectively making him canned-templar but two people arguing? Nope. No time.

So with their looks of disbelief becoming ever larger the longer they stared in his beady green eyes and admired his lovely black beard or perhaps the smear of what looked like blood across his nose, the Apostate was feeling quite pleased with himself even as his fellow legend/traveller made himself known.

"Falon Mahariel, Grey Warden and the..."

"... Hero of Feralden." Pentaghast finished in a whisper. Wow, was the room always this quiet? Or echo-y?

"Merrill Hawke, the uh... Wife of Garrett Hawke."

_'Poor Merrill... No flashy titles like myself and the Warden.'_

The silence reigned supreme for a brief while longer as the two parties stared at each other before the elf beside Pentaghast cleared his throat, "So uh... Would you both like to help out?"

Being the man of comedy that he was, Hawke made to reply with a masterfully witty comment that may have solved this entire affair within a moment but he was cut off, "If you would be willing to take us on, Lavellan, we would be happy to assist you however we must inform you that your clan grows worried over your lack of presence of late."

_'Maybe he is better at this whole talking thing than me.' _Garrett quietly considered as he observed Falon, the Elf's medium length black hair falling gently across his shoulders like a black waterfall whilst his Dalish tattoos practically glowed in the light given off from multiple braziers. Taking a moment to admire the room as Falon became the self declared speaker of the trio, Hawke took note of the worn looking book shelves, the racks of armour that looked like it needed a good deal of maintenance, the men peaking in through side doors as the word of the appearance of two legends spread through the building and how could one forget that chest hair?

…

_'Chest hair?'_

"Varric!" Hawke yelled, striding over to the Dwarf in question with a wide smile already plastered on his face. Varric returned the smile with one of his own, the Dwarf's own charm coming into play as the two had a momentary smiling contest before they both clapped their hands together in a handshake.

"Good to see you Chuckles. Glad to see Daisy is still with you."

"How's Bianca?"

"Resting, thanks. Who's your other friend? Looks a lot happier then Broody was but doesn't look any less... Elf-y."

"Oh, he's Falon. The Grey Warden."

Varric raised a hairy brow at that, peering around his old-time friend and staring at the back of the newly identified Falon who was currently having a very boring conversation with Pentaghast and Lavellan whilst Merrill just idly hummed to herself, "Always seems to be you rubbing shoulders with legends."

It was hard to restrain the large grin that spread across Hawke's features merely settling for one of his average grins, "You know me Varric. Trouble just comes to me."

"I think you'll be experiencing more trouble with Lavellan in the coming days, if you decide to stay."

Before Hawke could formulate a response his ears decided to momentarily tune himself back into the conversation being held.

"So, Cassandra, you want myself and Garrett to help oversee this... Inquisition?"

_'Oh great.'_

**End of Chapter 1**

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Hello ladies and gentlemen and I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this tale that might span the course of my Inquisition but with the involvement from my Warden (Falon Mahariel) and Champion (Garrett Hawke). So far, I do not have any intentions as to add more chapters _just yet _however I will be keeping an eye on the reviews section to see reactions.

I hope you enjoyed _Brothers in Arms – Chapter 1 _and have a nice day.


	2. Chapter 2 - Ravens and Bulls

**Brothers in Arms**

**Chapter 2 – Ravens and Bulls**

'_When from the blood of battle the Stone has fed, let the heroes prevail and the blighters lay dead. As one of those blighters, I sodding salute you. Let's show them our hearts and then show them theirs.' _

_-Oghren, Dragon Age Origins _

The howling winds of the previous night had begun to die down to a dull biting sensation to any man or woman foolish enough to wander the streets of Haven at the earliest hour of the morning. Most residents of the little village would simply have a lie in and wait for the temperature to increase to a bearable temperature… Or at least they would have if a sudden bang swiftly followed by a shrill shriek hadn't pierced the silence of dawn.

All eyes turned in the direction of the Chantry and, whether knowing it or not, fixed on the source of their early morning wake up call.

"Wakey wakey!"

'_I am going to kill him.' _Were the dark thoughts of one Falon Mahariel as he observed one of his only ever shemlen companions banging his staff against anything that'd make a loud noise with a smile adorning his face as he jumped out of the way of a rather irate Merrill who he had just awoken with a very loud bang just above her head. The three of them were given a room together and whilst Merrill had graciously offered Falon at least the fleeting hope that he'd be having the bed before Garrett flung himself down on the bed and went out like a light.

Rising from his _nest _in the corner of the room, Falon watched Merrill fling weakened versions of some kind of magic at Hawke who, to his credit, managed to avoid all of them quite skilfully. It would have been a rather comedic scene if they had been up after the roosters. The chill from the outside didn't permeate into the Chantry and each room were similar degrees of warmth until someone opened a window.

A loud banging at the door brought Falon out of his musings in time to watch Merrill nail Garrett in the family-jewels with her staff just as the door swung open to reveal Cassandra. The Seeker looked like she had been up for an hour, no sign of tiredness in her eyes and her black armour sheltering her body from the warmth… How was she not cooking in that?

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at the scene before her before turning her attention to the Warden and simply fixing him with that steely gaze and a small nod of the head. Taking the subtle hint, Falon quickly stood and threw on his blue and grey vest, quickly striding out the room behind her; leaving Hawke and Merrill to their morning escapades.

Human and Elf walked towards the large table at the back of the Chantry that was situated in front of a small door, "Morning Warden. Sleep well?"

If he wasn't so tired Falon could have sworn that Cassandra's voice was laced with hilarity as she cast a sideways glance at him… were her lips twitching upwards into a smile? Two can play at that game.

"Hawke and Merrill were rutting throughout the night like a pair of mabari." He bluntly stated.

Moments passed as the sentence was received and then translated in the Seeker's mind and, just as a certain blonde haired Warden, she froze with a light blush spreading across her face. Savouring the victory for a moment just as he had with his old friend, Falon strode over to the table with a bit more of a spring in his step. _'Maybe this morning isn't as bad as I thought at first.' _

Cassandra joined him a moment later immediately pointing at a specific location on the map accompanied by a quite elegantly written label hovering beside it.

_Denerim._

'_Alistair.'_

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Alistair Therin, King of Feralden, Ex-Grey Warden and the royal bastard of Maric Therin, was irritated. No, irritated wasn't the word… more like angry.

Reading over the report once more, Alistair's hand reflexively gripped the arm of his throne.

_My King,  
>It has come to my attention that you, among other members of your court, have been sheltering apostate mages from Templar authority. I must kindly request that you cease this action, which goes against the Maker's will might I add. We in the Templar order are here to carry out the Maker's will even in these trying times.<em>

_Knight-Commander Greagoir of Kinloch Hold_

'_Even with the Mage-Templar war already in full swing Greagoir still tries to swoop in and make demands as if it is his right… Bastard.' _The mages that Greagoir believed were being sheltered were good enough folk currently being sheltered inside the Arl of Redcliffe's estate in Denerim, off the record of course.

Alistair let out a barely restrained sigh, glancing at the rather strange visitor he had been receiving recently. A beautiful raven sat on his shoulder and had been routinely visiting him every day on the same day for the past two months. "What do you think?"

Being a man of great imagination, Alistair enjoyed the thought of the raven's shaking of its head as denial of Greagoir's request, "Good choice."

Another pause and a sip from a goblet filled with warm Antivan brandy, Alistair couldn't help but shake the shudder that ran down his spine as he slipped the letter from Greagoir onto the small pile of 'rejected' letters. Now turning his attention to the final letter, he couldn't help but smile fondly at the gryphon wax stamp staring up at him. Hastily setting the goblet down on one of the arms in a haphazard position, Alistair hastily tore the letter open and began to read.

_Alistair, _

'_Funny… Oghren never writes so neatly.'_

_I write to you now from the warm hearth of Vigil's keep after just receiving a rather strange letter. It came from __**him**__. _

There are only a few things that can make Alistair freeze up – Anora giving him the evils, being frozen by a mage or being chucked into a freezing cold lake however this situation will always be remarked upon as that one which didn't entail any of the above. Frozen in his seat, Alistair hastily read the rest of the parchment and only made out a few more words.

_Haven. Wardens from Orlais coming here to reinforce. __**The Breach**__. _

'_Oh by all that is holy… He just swoops back in and things start right back up.'_

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Fen Lavellan's head hit the table with a loud bang, the sound of fake snoring drifting off of his figure as two others glare daggers into him. For the past five hours, a man named Cullen and a woman named Josephine had been consulting with him on matters which were beyond his understanding. With a snort of laughter, Fen took the moment to grin as he noticed the one part of comedic relief left in his life… _'From a Shem, no less.' _

Garrett Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall.

Interestingly enough, the two hadn't hit it off to begin with due to his pre-disposed nature of being a shemlen but the two became fast allies in the battle against boredom. Leading the enemy? Cullen and Josephine. Neutrals in the conflict had to be Falon and that strange woman… Sister Nightingale; both of whom were in a different corner of the room watching the interactions with looks filled with amusement barely hidden.

To be honest, he was rather enjoying testing the limits of the supposedly rigid persona of the Hero of Feralden. _'The Sabrae clan always had mischief in their midst. Probably comes from having a stoic hahren.' _

A loud bang and a bolt of searing pain freed him from his musings, clutching the back of head as all of the occupants of the room let out a quiet snigger at the sight of Cullen sliding his gauntlet back onto his hand with a smirk of his own playing across his face, "Now that we have your attention, Inquisitor…"

Before the Templar could begin his rather boring breaking-down of all of the different sects of the Inquisition's military, the door was barged open by a man who, even underneath the Orlesian style armour, practically had sweat dripping from every crevice and crack in his armour, "My lords! Ladies! Trouble in the courtyard!"

Beginning to rise from his chair and ready to face this new threat, Lavellan halted, "Inquisitor, your orders?"

Another moment of silence followed his fellow elf's words as all eyes fell upon the Hero of Feralden who, for all intent and purposes, was differing to Lavellan; a Dalish Hunter who unwillingly got involved in this 'holy order.'

Even as his mind raced, Garrett stood up and nodded in the Warden's direction with an oddly out-of-place serious expression planted on his features, "Ready to act on your command, Inquisitor."

'_Andruil, Mother of the Hunt, guide my actions as you have my arrows.'_

Nodding to the two largest living legends in Thedas, Fen Lavellan stood up fully and led the way out of the room whilst being flanked by his _two _lethallin. How could this possibly end badly?

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The sun was shining brightly over the mountains, casting a pleasant glow over the residents of Haven as they tried to go about their daily business amidst the clattering of hammers and the sound of roaring furnaces.

"You are all blind! This Qunari is here to bring about our demise through their wretched Qun!"

Ah, a healthy dose of insanity to brighten up ones day.

A large crowd was gathered in front of the Chantry steps, the only thing between them and the door being a line of soldiers, of the new Inquisition, wearing heavy armour and shields pressed firmly together. At the front of this crowd, between the people and the soldiers, was a priest. The symbol of the Chantry bouncing against his chest and robes that contrasted horribly to the _commoner clothing. _Opposite the Priest was a tank of a man wearing a very odd looking pair of baggy pants whilst a larger-then-life battle axe was slung across his shoulders by a thick strap.

The next line of raving insanity was cut off as the doors to the chantry banged open, silencing all in the immediate area just as the Inquisitor strode out; being flanked by the Champion and Warden. "And here is the _Elf, _who now leads this so called _Inquisition._"

The man turned his attention away from the Priest, unfolding his arms whilst a positively happy expression spread across his face, "Ah, Inquisitor. Just the man I wanted to see."

Inclining his head politely to the Qunari, the Inquisitor gestured with his head towards the Warden, "If you don't mind, Mr. Qunari, my advisor will be more than willing to appease you whilst I deal with your… _Welcoming party._"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Iron Bull. Pleasure to meet you…?"

"Warden Mahariel."

Many great meetings of importance were held in places of significance to a group or organisation. In the Chantry's case, meetings tended to be held in a special room within the main building. In Denerim, the Nobility met in the king's court to discuss matters of political, economic and military significance. In keeping with this tradition, Falon had taken Bull to a place of high importance to the Inquisition and its men.

"Got room for two more, Varric?"

Since it was the middle of the day, the Inn was practically empty of anyone except a waitress, the bartender and a certain Dwarf who was sat in a table situated towards the centre of the room. Funnily enough, Varric wasn't surprised at all when Falon and Bull strode into the Inn with the latter having to duck as the door frame nearly hit him in the face.

"You know what they say Warden about drinking alone."

Taking this as their cue, both of the newcomers sat down: Falon sitting himself comfortably next to Varric whilst Bull sat opposite them both.

"So, Bull, how can we help you?"

Instead of answering Iron Bull waved the barmaid over and asked for their largest mug of cheap ale. Even as they waited for the drink to arrive, which didn't take too long, Bull prolonged his silence instead humming something.

Only after taking a mouthful of the liquid into his mouth, swirling it around a little before swallowing did he answer.

"I'm offering myself and my band to the Inquisition for a modest fee."

After a moment to register what was said, both Varric and Falon wore identical expressions of relief and then annoyance before Falon's quickly warped into an expression of someone who was very, _very _pleased with themself, "I'm afraid, Iron Bull, that the Inquisition currently doesn't have nearly enough coin to hire you and your band however if you are willing to barter I am sure _we _can come to an agreement,"

"Playing games of commerce, Warden?"

"Simply trying to save coin, Bull."

"Let's hear it then,"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

**9:30 – Dragon Age  
>Thedas<br>Feralden  
>Old Grey Warden Fortress <strong>_**'Soldier's Peak'**_

"Come onnnnnnn Falon!"

'_It's hard to believe that he was trained to be a hardened killer.' _Thought the considerably younger version of the Hero of Feralden as he searched the racks filled with weapons that had long since be maintained. Still, didn't hurt to look, "Give me a moment, my_ royal bastard_."

Behind the Dalish Warden stood a Human with wittiness shrouding him like a cloak and a fake hurt expression now resolutely planted on his face, "Ouch. My manly feelings… Run through with your harsh words."

Ignoring the foolish shemlen and his witty remarks Falon continued to search through the rack before coming upon a rather strange note. Strange due to its location, not its contents.

_In War, Victory.  
>In Peace, Vigilance<br>In Death, Sacrifice  
>Remember Asturian<em>

"Found something?"

"Just a note… Let's keep moving."

The much younger and arguably more irritable Falon continued to lead the party through Soldier's Peak, slaying any walking corpses they encountered with either a well-placed arrow, a dry remark about the weather, another brutal cleave from a sword or a blast of magic from the evilest lady in the group.

It wasn't until they defeated the last of the demons and were about to exit the keep, leaving Avernus to his experimentations with only the restriction that he do it with a sense of morality, that Falon stopped directly in front of a portrait. Out of curiosity, he read the inscription beneath.

_Remember Asturian_

Whatever strange force compelled him to speak the motto of the Wardens out loud would forever remain a mystery but, in recollection, he would thank the Creators for that voice for a few seconds later that wall to the right of the portrait slid to the side and a very dusty looking chest was pushed forward.

Picking the lock on the chest revealed a hefty sum of silvers and a blade named _Asturian's Might_. Be it fate or be it blind luck… Thank the Creators for both.

"Kadan, what is it you have found?"

"… Something valuable, Sten… something very, _very _valuable."

'_And it isn't even in the chest.'_

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

**9:40 - Dragon Age  
>Thedas<br>Feralden  
>Haven<strong>

"I have a supply of sovereigns stashed away. In exchange for you and your men's loyalty and sword arms, I am willing to part with a great number of sovereigns **and **to allow you to take a fair earnings of any belongings we relieve from our opponents. Does that sound fair?"

The two, Elf and Qunari, locked gazes for a few moments just as Varric let out a soft chuckle, "Perhaps you should provide some proof, Warden. You know the saying about playing cards with an Elf,"

"Aye, the Dwarf's right,"

"Very well, we will depart tomorrow at dawn. Prepare for a journey that will take a while."

'_I wonder how Levi is fairing.'_

"Don't you need to get the Inquisitor's permission?"

Only the raising of Falon's eyebrow and Varric's soft chuckle responded to the Bull's question as the three settled down for a drink together. Indeed, a few more tales would be told that night of the less known adventures of the Hero of Feralden.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

**9:40 – Dragon Age  
>The Beyond<br>Halamshiral  
>Orlesian Ballroom<strong>

The Beyond. The Fade.

Two sides of the same coin.

This is where we all go to dream, except the dwarves, and it is the same place where demons and spirits reside.

In his own little portion of the beyond, Falon Mahariel was experiencing one of the best dreams he ever had even if it was rather confusing.

His Elvish mind could barely comprehend why he was dressed in attire better suited for a ball or why there were people walking around a large, ornate hall wearing fancy masks which did little to hide their recognisable features however there was one thing he could comprehend very clearly.

"You surprise me daily, my love,"

"You flatter me,"

"Who taught you to dance?"

Not even pausing in his ballroom style dance he twirled the love of his life around in a circle and watched mesmerised as her dark purple dress flowed around her body just as her normally loose raven coloured hair would. _'She's beautiful.'_

"Would you laugh at me if I told you it was Alistair?"

"I would say the buffoon did make himself useful in the end."

Both shared a small chuckle at that, resuming their dance a second after. Falon couldn't keep his eyes off of his and the same could be said for her. _'It helps that we are the same height.'_

Minutes passed and the music continued and the happy couple continued to dance in perfect synchronization with each movement somehow complimenting the other in some way nobody in the room could think possible. Just as the music came to a halt, his partner couldn't hide the soft gasp of surprise as Falon's grip slid from her shoulder and waist to absorb her into his embrace, "Please don't leave me… Please…"

"Shh, my love…" Tentatively patting him on the back, his love continued, "… I'm here. I'm always here."

"But… This is but a dream. When I awake, you'll be hundreds of miles away doing only the Creators know what… I'm… So alone without you…

… Morrigan."

* * *

><p>Thank you for reading. Again.<p>

More chapters will be coming at random intervals since my once dormant mind has re-awakened meaning some of my other stories will be receiving some love as well. Farewell and until next time, Inquisitors/Champions/Wardens.


	3. Important Notice: PSA

**Attention Inquisitors, Champions and Wardens!**

**Brothers in Arms is ****NOT ****going to continue.**

**Still reading? Good. Brothers in Arms will be in-fact restarted, perhaps under a different name, and will follow the tale of Inquisitor Lavellan, Champion Hawke and Warden Mahariel as they battle against the Elder One. The story will start when the Inquisition first arrives at Skyhold and Lavellan is made leader of the Inquisition. **

**Remember when Varric messages Hawke about his location and asks him to come to Skyhold? The Warden will be joining him. **

**I will try to keep the Fanfiction close to main canon events however you must I do intend to use some of the multiplayer characters and companions from previous games will be making more involved roles than in the actual game. **

**This fanfiction will circle around all three however it will mainly focus on the Warden and the rumoured 'cure' for the Calling that he had been looking for. For those of you who enjoy a good romantic moment yes – I do intend to have the Inquisitor take Hawke, the Warden and Cassandra to Halamshiral to meet with Empress Celene and yes I did do that because they all have very big and influential titles.**

**Cassandra Pentaghest – the Hero of Orlais**

**Falon Mahariel – the Hero of Feralden and Warden-Commander of the Feralden Grey Wardens.**

**Garrett Hawke – Champion of Kirkwall**

**Fen Lavellan – Leader of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste.**

***IMPORTANT NOTICE* **

**I will not be posting the chapters of this new iteration until I am confident in the piece that has been written. This also provides a chance to allow the induction of OC characters*, if you wish to submit a character please follow the guide-line below and send them to me in a PM.**

**Name: **

**Age:**

**Race:**

**House/Clan:**

**Affiliation (E.G. Templars, Mages, etc.): **

**View of Mage Rebellion: **

**Backstory:**

**Personality traits:**

**Skills/Talents (Try to base them off of previous specialisations in Dragon Age games E.G. Ranger, Bard, Reaver – Only if applicable):**

**Description:**

***If your character is based off of the original Inquisition starting options (E.G. Human from house Trevelyan) it will be accepted on the grounds that they were not at the conclave. **

**Thank you for your patience and have a happy new year. **


End file.
